


At the Gardnersonsons

by depresane



Series: GlinDorn [2]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Party, fantastic slice of life, visit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 03:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21367153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depresane/pseuds/depresane
Relationships: Glint&Dorn
Series: GlinDorn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540456
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	At the Gardnersonsons

Warm streets of Baldur’s Gate were pumping waves of citizens and travellers like a heart. The afternoon light cast shadows away, exposed thieves and spies, and banished them from gaps between buildings. The city seemed to be safe.  
And yet, people were skipping left and right, looking around, whispering and gossiping. The number of dogs has increased. Guards were wearing amulets on their belts.  
Glint Gardnersonson, a gnome native to the city, commented to his companion, “Looks like I missed some big news while I was away.”  
Dorn Il-Khan, a half-orc with smooth hair, fixed his eyes on a notice board to his left. “Indeed. You see the letters? They’re not written by hand, are they?”  
Glint turned his head. “Ûûû, a print! Finally!”  
Dorn tilted his torso. “...what do you mean.”  
“Crispin Darklock debated mass printing of almanacs and stuff with the Silverhands. The nobles didn’t want that. I don’t know how the dispute concluded, I left early. Good to see that Darklock convinced _someone_ to implement the invention. Anyway…”  
The duo read announcements on the board.  
“I don’t recognize any of those names,” said Dorn, “Do you?”  
“Kinda. The Anchevs are pretty shady, as far as I’m concerned. No human here agrees with me, though.”  
“What makes them shady?”  
“Their gear didn’t corrode. Everybody in the city was having problems with the iron. All new swords, freshly forged, crumbling in _days_. But not theirs.”  
Dorn sighed. “That’s enough. What about those other people from the board?”  
“Not a clue.”  
“Alright. We can go now.”

The first characteristic Dorn noticed about the Gardnersonsons’ house was a field of tulips. Very peculiar tulips for they grew on branching stems, one flower per a branch. From three to five flowers bloomed on each plant. Butterflies flew in clouds, obscuring Dorn’s view as he was crossing the front-yard, slowly and carefully shifting legs.  
“What did you all do to those flowers?”  
“My father crossed them with some other plant. No big deal.”  
“Hrrrm.”  
“No, really. Cross-breeding, crossing over, it’s interesting only for a couple of days. Not even full days.” He paused. “Don’t tell him that.”  
The house itself was high enough for four average families. The door, however, with its semicircular top and artificial vines around it, was too short and narrow to let a human through.  
“Yes, yes, wait outside, I shall bring two stools for us.”  
Glint’s joyful tone didn’t match the situation. Dorn could only imagine his flat buttocks smashing one of the stools into threads and shreds of wood.  
Meanwhile, the gnome entered his house, greeted his parents, a sister, a sibling, a cousin, two aunts, a pet fox… Dorn stopped listening and looked up. From the last floor, among potted plants hid a pair of dark eyes and a round nose.  
“Good day,” he mumbled.  
The person didn’t answer; they didn’t retreat to their room either.  
Dorn glanced at the door. He realized there were four cocoons attached to its surface.  
He heard Glint again.  
The door opened. A gnome was carrying two stools. Behind him, another gnome was dragging a rocking chair behind her. Next, Glint and his relative brought a table. It became clear that the entire family would sit with him outside.  
And the pet fox.  
One of the stools was made of metal. An elderly gnome put it in front of Dorn. He crooked his lips but attempted to take a seat anyway. He heard a creak. In the end, he was pretending to be sitting for hours. His knees were flaming.  
The Gardnersonsons didn’t see through his act, mostly because they were distracted by his orc fangs.  
Except for one woman. “Forgive me, mister, I’ve never seen an orc with silky hair before.”  
“And I’ve never seen engineered flowers before, so we’re even.”  
She grinned. “Do you always smooth them?”  
“No, I started just a tenday ago.”  
Glint added, “He pulled a prank on me. I woke up and opened my backpack to get my herbal mixture. But it was gone!”  
The woman blinked. “Did you give it back?”  
“Obviously.”  
“Good.”  
“It stopped being funny very quickly.”  
“I know.”  
Dorn coughed. “Oh?”  
Glint interrupted them. “Anyway, I didn’t want to forgive him, so he bought a similar product and stylized his own hair. As an apology.”  
The elderly gnome put a pitcher of mead on the table. The pet fox wanted to sniff it. The gnome shooed it away.   
Dorn thought, “At least there aren’t any children here.”  
“I’m baaack!”  
A boy ran through the front-yard and hugged Ms. Gardnersonson.  
“So am I,” sang Glint.  
“Yaaay! Welcome back, G! Have you brought any gifts?”  
“I did. Just a minute, I’ll unpack it.”  
The child stared at Dorn. “Good evening, mister. What is it like to be so tall?”  
“Nothing special,” he answered.  
“Oh.”  
Glint smiled. “That’s just his opinion. Yours may be different.”  
Half a minute later, the least amused half-orc in Faerûn had the boy sitting on his shoulder.  
“Whoa! I can see all the tulips!”  
“Hmrmmmgh.”


End file.
